The Best Is Yet To Come
by kellylover
Summary: "Max did everything he could think of to make it known to 99 that he was in love with her. He was tired of pretending he didn't feel anything for her, and was ready to show her just how much he cared." Set immediately after "The Reluctant Redhead" this story discusses what the last seven episodes of Season 3 meant for Max and 99's relationship. Oneshot.


**The Best Is Yet To Come**

**kellylover**

"Come on, 99. I'll take you home," Maxwell Smart said to his partner who stood by his side. She was covered in white body paint and dressed in a simple white toga.

"Okay, Max. Goodnight, Chief," 99 addressed the man, similarly dressed, to Max's right.

"Goodnight, 99. Goodnight, Max," he returned. "And don't forget to turn that costume in," he reminded her.

"Oh, that's not a rented costume, Chief," Max began, "it's mine. I just let her borrow it." The chief looked puzzled. He started to open his mouth as if to ask why Max kept a toga, but, deciding against it, closed his mouth again. "Come on, 99. 'Night, Chief."

As they turned to walk away, Max placed a hand at the small of 99's back, gently guiding her through the doorway and back out into the cool night air. 99 pulled her arm out from Max's that guided her and instead slid her arm through his. His hand left the small of her back and came to rest in her hand.

"What a wild case, huh Max?" she asked as they reached the car. "Who would have thought that Mimsy would actually turn out to be Amanda Krispin?"

"Yes, well, 99," Max began, opening the passenger door to let 99 in, "with some people, you just never know."

"I guess you're right, Max," she responded, sliding into the car. Max shut the door behind her and quickly entered from the other side. "But she really had you fooled. Not even you saw that coming."

"No, I guess I didn't. But that just goes to show you that even I'm not infallible." Max started the car and began to pull away from the Krispin mansion.

"I never thought you were, Max," 99 replied teasingly. Max rolled his eyes, but turned to flash her a short smile. She reached for his hand again, intertwining their fingers as he drove off.

They reached 99's apartment relatively quickly. The traffic had died down from the earlier 5:00 rush and the city had settled into a quiet lull for this seasonally cold April Thursday. The passengers in the car matched the silence outside, simply happy to sit holding one another's hand.

Max reflected as he drove on how nice it was to enjoy even this, the smallest of pleasures, with 99. Ever since they returned from Saint Germaine Island, they had been easing into a covert relationship.

Of course, immediately after their return, Max had been scared to death to do much more than hold her hand exactly as they were doing now. After all, she had gone away to marry another man. And while Max showed an intense interest in her even after the engagement was broken, Max felt it somehow wouldn't be proper to move in on 99 as though nothing had happened.

Luckily, it had been easy to fall into the same familiar pattern of taking it for granted that they were together without saying so. When the arrived back in the States, the chief had granted them the rest of the week off to recuperate before returning to work. So, unable to keep himself from her company, Max asked 99 if she'd like to go to the amusement park and was glad to hear her agree so readily.

But when she wanted to go through the Tunnel of Love, Max pretended that he didn't want to. He was afraid things would escalate too quickly if he seemed too eager, and he was still held back by the reminder that she had, only a few days previous, been engaged to another man. But still craving her touch, even in the most innocent of manners, Max called her up and asked if she'd like to have dinner with him at his apartment next Saturday night.

When she accepted, Max prepared for the most romantic evening his apartment had ever seen. He picked up whole list of groceries and gathered all the ingredients for a fine, home cooked Italian dinner. He pressed his finest suit, picked out a few of Frank Sinatra's slowest, sweetest albums to play on his record, and even stacked a new pile of wood for a cozy fire. He had throw blankets ready, in case the fire wasn't warm enough or in case 99 wanted to cuddle, and bought only the finest of wines for the evening. He did everything he could think of to make it known to 99 that he was in love with her. He was tired of pretending he didn't feel anything for her, and was ready to show her just how much he cared.

But, of course, just as he had planned to make his intentions clear, the chief had insisted on using his apartment on that same night to protect America's track stars from KAOS's Contrived Accidents Division. 99 was waiting for them when he, Hymie, and the chief left the men's locker room and the three of them paused to let her know the plan. Max was careful to emphasize, as they told her, the fact that the boys would be staying at his apartment. He looked at her discreetly as he told her, letting her that their date would have to be cancelled. 99 gave him a knowing look back, but then looked puzzled. She didn't seem to understand why Max didn't feel at liberty to discuss the matter with her openly, but said nothing and went along with the plan.

When 99 did come over that night, it wasn't how Max had imagined it. Rather than cooking for her, she cooked for him and the rest of the boys. He felt guilty as she walked into the kitchen and frustrated that the evening hadn't gone as planned. But when 99 called him into the kitchen and he excused himself from Hymie's constant gaze, he was glad to be alone with her if even for a second.

"What do you need, 99?" Max asked as he walked in. She turned around from the stove and smiled at him.

"Nothing, Max. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute." She beckoned him to come further into the room and he obeyed. "Why didn't you just tell me that our date had to be broken off, Max? It seemed like you didn't want anyone to know that I was coming over." Max swallowed.

"Well, 99, I didn't think it was anybody else's business," he told her.

"Oh, it's not, Max," she agreed, "but it almost seemed like you were ashamed to bring it up." She searched his eyes.

"Oh, no, 99. I could never be ashamed of having you over for dinner. Why, any man should be proud that you would want to have dinner with him. I just…" he trailed off in search of the right words. "I just don't think it's a good idea for everyone to know how close we are." 99 nodded and shrugged a little.

"Okay, Max. Whatever you say." She turned back to the stove to stir a pot behind her and began again, "I saw the dinner you had ready to make." Max moved closer until he was standing beside her, peering into the pot on the stove. "It looked like a real treat." She looked at him. "And the wines you bought." Max looked at the floor. "Thank you, Max. It was a very sweet thought."

"Gee, 99," Max said, finally looking up at her, "I'd still like to make you that dinner when this is all over." She smiled and stopped stirring to face him, taking his hands in hers as she did so.

"I'd love that, Max." Seeing his chance, Max leaned down and kissed her, gently pressing his lips to hers. He moved his hands from within hers to hold onto her arms and pull her closer to him. She responded, parting her lips slightly and taking his bottom lip into her mouth. They pulled away slowly just as Hymie's voice could be heard from the other room, calling for Max.

Luckily, thanks to Hymie, their mission was successful and they were able to ensure that the American team won the track meet. That night, after a short celebration with all the boys on the team, Max and 99 drove off to finally steal some time alone at his apartment. Rather than cooking, however, he suggested that they stop off on the way for some Chinese food. A few minutes later, they were pulling up to his apartment complex, dinner safe in hand.

"Why don't you pour the wine, 99?" Max offered as he opened the door to his apartment. "I'll get some plates."

"Okay, Max," she replied, moving toward the wine selection. Soon, Max and 99 were seated on his couch, Frank Sinatra's voice was gliding softly through the air, and a warm fire was blazing in the fireplace.

Conversation was easy. They laughed at how all their plans to spend time together always seemed to go awry. They discussed the significance of the victory at the track meet. They debated about the treatment of captured enemy spies, and shuddered to think what their fates might be if ever a case went south while overseas. They mentioned the friends they met in spy school who were stationed in Moscow or Berlin or Cuba and wondered how they all were doing. And they finally touched on how precious their time was and how quickly their lives could end. But by then, they had finished eating, and 99 had pulled her feet up on the couch and leaned in Max's direction and taken his hand. So it felt natural when Max leaned down and kissed her.

His mouth moved lightly over hers. He kept leaning down, getting closer to her, until she wrapped her arms around his neck. Placing his hands on her waist, Max pulled her up, sliding his tongue past her lips as he did so. Their bodies were pressed together as his tongue explored the inner reaches of her mouth. They sank deeper into the kiss, and before he knew it, 99 was straddling his lap, running her fingers through his hair as they kissed. He couldn't tell if he had guided her there or if she had gone voluntarily, but once she was there, it was all Max could do to stop from grinding his hips against hers. He wiggled involuntarily as she settled and froze mid-kiss when he discovered that she was absentmindedly squirming against him.

"99, stop," he said, pulling away. She looked at him apprehensively. Max breathed heavily. "You can't do that," he panted. "I'm liable to lose control." She blinked. "Okay?"

After a second, 99 nodded and said, "Okay." Then Max reached up and pulled her back down until her lips were once again crashing with his. She kissed him, but pulled back after a moment and said, "I'm sorry, Max. I didn't mean to tease you."

Max's breathing evened and he replied, "I know you didn't, 99." He kissed her again before saying, "You just don't realize what effect you have on men," with a twinkle in his eye. She blushed as she moved off of his lap, making Max immediately miss the pleasant pressure of her weight against him.

"You flatter me, Max," she said quietly and then kissed him once more. When she pulled away, she paused for a minute. Then, as if gathering courage, she took a deep breath. "Listen, Max, I should really get going." Max nodded.

"Okay, 99." He squeezed her hand and stood with her. At the door, 99 stopped and turned back to face him.

"Thanks for a nice dinner, Max."

"Don't mention it, 99. And listen, don't worry about that," he said, gesturing to the couch. "It was nothing."

99 nodded. "Okay, Max." Smiling, Max leaned forward and gently took her bottom lip between his own. 99 kissed him back but pulled away before they could deepen the kiss, leaving Max alone in his apartment.

After that, Max and 99 were able to have a few more dates between cases. Once they had convinced Mr. Fitzmaurice to write a favorable article for CONTROL in Newsweek Magazine, they enjoyed a night out at the theater to celebrate. Max took her out dancing when Albert Pfitzer's plans to rid the planet of noise were foiled. They even had plans to go out the night that Max was assigned as the new chief of CONTROL, but after his new appointment, he found that he was too busy to see her that night. But after they knew that Max had really never been appointed as the chief of CONTROL, Max found that his only solace came from 99.

When the chief was done talking to the president on the phone, Max and 99 hurried off to her office to begin on the paperwork for Operation Sourdough. "Gee, 99," Max began as they walked in, "I feel like a dope."

"Oh, Max, you had no way of knowing that it was really KAOS on the other line," she reassured him.

"But I acted like such a jerk. Everybody's gonna hate me now." Max folded his arms as he leaned against her desk. 99 moved to stand in front of him and placed her hands on his well-formed biceps.

"It's okay, Max," she said. "You made a mistake. But you'll learn from it." He shrugged.

"I guess you're right."

"Oh, come on, Max," 99 chided him, sliding her arms around the rest of his body. "Being chief is a large responsibility. One that I'm sure you'll be up to someday. But no one expects you to be ready for it now. You still have years left of being an operative before you need to retire to the administrative side of the business. And at least now you won't make the same mistake when it comes to that."

Max smiled a little and slipped his arms around her waist. "You're right, 99. Thanks." He placed a delicate kiss on her lips.

"One of the boys, huh?" 99 teased when he pulled away.

"Ah, 99, I didn't mean it. It just popped out." He gave her a pleading look. "I didn't want anyone to think that we were more than just partners."

"But kissing in the office is okay?" she taunted.

"Well, we're alone now," he said as if it were obvious. 99 smiled. "I'm awfully sorry, 99," Max added.

"Okay, Max," she conceded, and gave him a delicate kiss to match his before insisting they begin on their paperwork for Operation Sourdough.

A few days later, they were assigned to the Kubacheck case and began tour the world as table tennis champions. Though they had another agent along, whenever they could find time alone, Max would retreat to 99's open arms and welcoming kisses. And when they came back, as if the chief knew that Max was dying to have some time alone with 99, he assigned Max to the Amanda Krispin case, which Max knew, no matter how much he wanted to spend time with 99, would be easier solved without her distracting him from his task.

But now the case was over and Max was driving away, happily holding 99's hand. And while that was the case, nothing else seemed to matter.

99 was the first to break the comfortable silence that had settled in the car.

"So, Amanda Krispin really came on to you back there," she said as though she were testing the waters for this topic of conversation.

"I can't understand it, 99. I didn't do anything to provoke her," Max replied, genuinely puzzled at Amanda's behavior.

"Did, uh," 99 began, "did you enjoy it?" Max glanced over at her.

"Come on, 99," he said incredulously. "You really think I enjoyed it?"

She blushed and answered, "Well, she _is_ very beautiful and you _did_ spend a lot of time with her and you _were_ very concerned for her safety."

Max chuckled. "Well, sure, 99, but she was a civilian enlisted to help us out. She wasn't a spy. She didn't know what she was up against. And I had to train her. And she might be beautiful," he conceded, "but she doesn't kiss as well as you do."

99 smiled. "You mean that?"

Nodding, Max replied, "Of course I do."

99 gave Max's hand a squeeze and looked out of her window and watched as the buildings passed by. "Thank you, Max," she said.

Max smiled and squeezed her hand in reply as they sped down the street toward her apartment. He thought then, as he pulled up to her apartment complex, that it was worth the whole world to be with 99. And nothing was ever going to persuade him otherwise again.

**Fin.**

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